


coolest relative, okayest babysitter

by arklie



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: 5k of this tomfoolery because i cant manage my words to save my life, F/F, Multi, Nonbinary Uchiha Obito, obito babysits sarada, obito uses they/them in this fic, thats it, thats the plot, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 11:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arklie/pseuds/arklie
Summary: “Me?” They tilt their head back, wondering if they’ve gone senile way too early as a punishment from Rikudou Sennin himself. “Are you sure?”“Yes, Obito-san.” Sakura folds her arms to match Ino behind her, and Obito can’t help but to notice that she has significantly more respect for them now with the new honorific she uses. Or maybe it was sarcastic. “I want you to babysit Sarada.”“Huh,” they reply intellectually.(Obito babysits Sarada, or tries to.)
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Obito, Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino, Uchiha Obito & Uchiha Sarada, obis4ku dont touch this ill end you, there's some implied ships/crushes in there but they're not the focus at all so im not gonna tag em
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	coolest relative, okayest babysitter

**Author's Note:**

> again i must say that i never watched boruto in my life and i dont plan to
> 
> i took some liberties with the timeline because kishi sure does that a lot with his own story

Obito can’t believe what they’re hearing. Instead of asking like the ideal action to do, though, they stare dumbly down to the kunoichi who had just spoken the words to them, trying to read for her motives or reasoning behind the green of her eyes. 

The seal on her forehead stares as much as her eyes do straight to his asymmetrical, dumbfounded face, while the current head of T&I stands behind her warily.

Obito points at themself. 

“Me?” They tilt their head back, wondering if they’ve gone senile way too early as a punishment from Rikudou Sennin himself. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Obito-san.” Sakura folds her arms to match Ino behind her, and Obito can’t help but to notice that she has significantly more respect for them now with the new honorific she uses. Or maybe it was sarcastic. “I want you to babysit Sarada.”

“Huh,” they reply intellectually, glancing down to their feet—newly polished pastel pink! How pretty is that, they’re trying to test the waters with new looks—blinking once, twice, before meeting Sakura’s eyes again. “I thought you didn’t trust me.”

“I don’t,” she says sternly, and Obito can’t help a chuckle in response. “I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, but Sarada still has Uchiha blood in her, she’s still a part of your clan. So I figured I could give you this _one chance_ to babysit my _one and only daughter_.”

Sakura’s finger stabs under their throat, causing the slightest flinch in their shoulders. Obito would’ve been blind to miss the way Ino’s dagger-glare burns a hole between his eye sockets.

Still, though, Obito can’t help it. The threat from both Sakura and Ino is quickly set aside as they pull the slightly-smaller shinobi with their arms, squeezing tightly with their face buried in the nook of her neck.

 _“Thank you,”_ they murmur, and they can’t believe just how tearful they sounded already. There’s tremor in their fingers even as they pull away, pretend nothing happened, and put a gloved hand on their chin, comically deep in thought. “I suppose I could clear my schedule for you.”

“Oh?” Sakura obliges them in their little game. “What crimes were you about to commit if I didn’t burden you with the responsibility to look after a seven year old, Obito?”

“I was thinking I’d blow up the Hokage stone faces today.”

“That’s a shame. It would’ve been a real blast.”

  
  
  


Obito tries to keep up the ‘aloof layabout reformed war criminal’ persona they’ve been told they have, the entire time Sakura introduces them to little Sarada, explaining that her mothers would have to go for the weekend. Ino’s only visible eye doesn’t leave Obito the entirety of the introduction.

Not _unnecessarily_ sharp or antagonizing. Really, Obito appreciates it.

Sarada’s big, dark eyes scan Obito from their head to toe. They just hope their scars won’t freak her out or make her uncomfortable—just to make things easier for themself. They can see the way her eyes sparkle when she looks at their open-toed sandals particularly, noticing the painted nails, so that’s a start. She doesn’t say anything. They suppose she was being polite.

Sakura concludes her talk, going down on one knee as she puts a hand on Sarada’s shoulder, kissing her forehead sweetly. 

“Play nice, okay? I love you.” Sarada leaps to a tight hug, and Sakura returns it, patting her girl on the back. When they pull back, she says: “Say goodbye to Mama, too.”

The second mother-daughter goodbye hug commences, and Obito isn’t sure if it’s appropriate for them to watch, so they settle to familiarize themself with the porch of the Yamanaka-Haruno house.

Sarada waves as both her and Obito watch Sakura and Ino’s backs get smaller by the distance. Sarada doesn’t stop staring at the distance where her mothers have gone for a while, sniffling, and Obito tries an awkward greeting.

“Hey.”

Sarada looks at them, and suddenly Obito never knew a single word in their entire life. They didn’t think they’d get this far.

Obito offers their non-gloved hand palm-down with a lopsided smile, giving her a better look of their nails.

“Pretty, right?”

Sarada nods, head bobbing up and down enthusiastically. She reaches out both of her hands to hold theirs—she’s so _tiny_ —using the tips of her fingers to curiously feel the polish.

They raise a brow, smile widening. “You want these?”

She looks up at them hesitantly. “Is that ok?”

“Hmm. I think your mother would kill me if I use her nail polish,” they think out loud, their free hand on their chin. They hold back a snort as they see Sarada pouts from their peripheral vision, her nails lightly digging to their skin. 

“But.” They hold up a finger. “I have plenty in my place. I just need to get them and then you can choose which one you like.”

Sarada frowns, brows creasing. “But Mom told me to not go far from home.”

“It’ll just be a sec, yeah? My house isn’t that far.”

“Where is your home, Obito-san?”

Obito offers their other hand. “Hold my hand.” And she just does that. They close their eye, fake-thinking. “It should be…”

When they open their eye, ther mangekyo spins, and warps both Sarada and themself to the front door of their apartment. “...Right here.”

The grin on their face is unavoidable when Sarada gasps in delighted surprise, an innocent kind of amazement in her eyes. “That’s—!” She stammers, eyes wide as she stares at Obito, then to the door. Her hands are no longer around Obito’s as they hover near her mouth. “How did you—?”

“Smoke and mirrors. I know some magic tricks,” they lie easily, gloved hand twisting the doorknob to their home. “Wait here, okay? My place’s messy. I’ll be so embarrassed if you look.”

  
  
  


Sarada bounces excitedly on the couch as Obito lines up the varying shades of nail polish on the coffee table. Obito presents their little collection with spread arms and a little _ta-da_.

Sarada wastes no time getting on her knees at the side of the coffee table, taking closer looks at the arrays of colors presented before her, shades of red and gold and purple and blue on pretty little bottles. Obito internally wonders how long will it take for her to pick.

“This one!” She says with all the certainty a seven-years old could have, holding up one of the purple bottles.

...That was unexpectedly fast. Obito forgot that children don’t think the way adults do. Children their age don’t overthink things, do they?

“Good choice,” they tell her. And when they ask if she’s sure of her choice, she nods without skipping a heartbeat.

Alright, then. 

The both of them sit on the couch. Sarada with her legs folded in a lotus position and Obito with one of their legs resting on the coffee table, the others crossed over their thigh. 

“Did you know, Sarada?” They start, starting the first sweep of the polish on her right index finger. “My boyfriend used to wear this color a few years ago.”

“You mean Kakashi-san?”

They snort. “No, the other boyfriend.”

And they don’t elaborate, because it’s endearing the way Sarada’s face twists in puzzlement, no doubt trying to figure out who their other boyfriend is. “Gai-san?”

“I wish,” they huff out a laugh. Because, really, for all his obnoxious volume and speech, Gai is… sweet, to put it shortly. “We’re just friends.”

“Boys can be really annoying but I really like Gai-san.” Good to hear she agrees. “I think you two should kiss. You’re not annoying.”

Obito laughs again, and the sincerity behind Sarada’s eyes really doesn’t help. They almost mess up the first nail with the way their hand shakes with the laughter. “If he wants to he would have already.”

They start the first sweep on Sarada’s middle finger, eye focused on her hand rather than her eyes. 

“Have you ever went to Kiri?” Just a few years ago, Kiri would’ve been such a heavy topic to burden a seven-years old with. From what once was the Bloody Mist is now a _tourist trap_ , of all things. How much things have changed.

She shakes her head. “But Mom did promise me she’ll take me there as soon as she has free time! She’s the greatest medic in the world so everyone always wants her to heal them.” Her lips are pulled to a small frown, pouting. “Why can’t they just look for the second best medic? She gets so busy even during weekends. And Mama wouldn’t let me help her in the flower shop.”

They’re fairly certain Ino _doesn’t_ work at the flower shop—at least for the most part. So that’s her cover for her interrogation works to her kid, then. 

“It’s just so unfair,” Sarada concludes.

Obito hums, and they don’t say a word. They never had any parents, so they can’t quite understand how she must feel. Not to mention they're not really in the place to give advice on how to deal with feeling abandoned.

“You know,” they say instead. “In theory, I can take you to Kiri right now.”

Sarada jolts lightly, and Obito’s nostrils flare slightly as they once again almost mess up the polish from the motion, grunting. Sarada doesn’t respond to that, not verbally, but she does switch to bounce her knees in her position. 

“Really? _Now?_ ”

“Ah,” they tease, starting the first sweep on her ring finger, “But your mothers wouldn’t like that, would they?”

“W-well!” Her face turns red, and she splutters as she breaks eye contact. Obito keeps their face the way it is, save for the amused raise of a brow. “We- we can just! Not tell them!”

“Sarada,” they say, with fake shock in their voice, eyes wide. “That’s _naughty_. You’re a delinquent.”

“I’m not! I’m nice and I follow the rules and I help with—” Whatever it is she’s trying to say, she’s getting it jumbled up as she brings up her shoulders to her face—all red now—like trying to disappear. The quiet comes not long, but the pout is intact with it. 

“I just really wanna go there.” Her words are clearer this time, and quieter, but the embarrassment is still as strong as the disappointment in her tone.

“Ah, fuck,” they say, before they can stop themself. “Don’t give me that face. Look.” 

They hold up Sarada’s hand closer to her own face, the nails now all painted in a deep purple, albeit yet to dry. 

“Your hand’s all pretty now.”

That quickly distracts her, and she pulls away her hand from Obito’s grip to wonder at her nails in various angles—closer to her face, then further. 

Their lips tug to a smile, snorting in amusement. “Alright, alright. Now give me your other hand.”

  
  
  


Obito doesn’t _get_ why Sarada keeps whining for them to take her for food, until they remember that, oh, yeah, people need to eat.

“Shit,” they murmur very intelligently under their breath, while Sarada glares at them with puffy cheeks and brows creased deeply. “Hang on.” 

They fumble off the bed, where the both of them had spent a good portion of the day with books both of the magical fairy tales kind and the thick medical books Sarada had insisted they _had_ to teach her. 

_“Fuck.”_ And a few of the thinner books fall off the bed as Obito scrambles off the sheets. “Wait here.”

So they kamui’d themself to their apartment to grab their sorry wallet.

Obito doesn’t need nutrients in the traditional way since they woke up in that cave with their body half a tree. Food became trivial, especially that they can’t taste most things. They’ve gotten better with letting themself eat just for the hell of it, but they never had to take care of another human person, so they just forget about such a common fact that no longer applies to them.

“Sorry, sorry,” they tell Sarada, whose arms are crossed and refuses to look at Obito let alone hold their hand, as the two of them walk down the road. She’ll stay like that until they get her food, won’t she. “I forgot my wallet.”

She _does_ stay like that until the both of them sit behind the counter of Ichiraku. Ayame and Teuchi greet Sarada with a smile bright as ever, and an acknowledging glance towards Obito, of which they respond with a lazy wave. As Obito sits down, Sarada’s legs are already swinging on her seat, awaiting both of their orders.

“Obito-san,” she says, all the grudge in her face gone as she looks up to them. “What are you?”

“Photosynthesizing,” they answer like they understood what Sarada meant.

“What? No!” Through Sarada’s irritation, the giggle in her voice is unmistakable. “Mom told me you’re a relative and that your grandmother and my great grandfather were siblings. So if so, what are you?”

“I don’t know,” they say dismissively, because they don’t particularly want to think or talk about family or anything from the past, or to even simply put some effort into figuring out their own family tree.

Haha. Tree. 

“Uncle? Aunt? Somewhere between that.”

“You’re married to yourself?” She asks, pointing to the ring around their ring finger. It’s the very same ring Kisame had worn in the Akatsuki days. “Can you do that?”

They snort at the misconception. 

“No, Sarada. I just haven’t been a man or a woman recently, so uncle or aunt doesn’t really fit. You can, like, call me either if you want, though. I don’t really care.” They shrug as they put their glass of water on their lips, taking a sip. Sarada nods. “Or you can come up with something new yourself. Give Obito-san a little surprise.”

It’s partially a challenge, and Sarada seems to take it seriously, if her expression as she jumps to thought is anything to go by. 

“Ankle.”

Obito chokes on the water they’re drinking and their own strangled laughter. They wipe their mouth with their flesh hand while Sarada giggles at the sight. “I guess that works.”

“Ramen for two!” shouts Ayame from behind the counter, placing Obito and Sarada’s respective orders in front of them. One and a half pair of eyes glimmer as they stare to the ramen and the neatly arranged topping.

Sarada claps her hands, beaming, and starts digging in.

Obito takes their time to cup the bowl with their hands to feel the warmth, inhaling the scent of their ramen that threatens to burn their throat and ears alike. They can only imagine how much pain this would cause them if their taste buds weren’t mostly dead, or if their body weren’t as messed up as it is. They lick their lips--dry, they just noticed--as they blindly grab for the nearest pair of chopsticks.

They tap the end of the chopsticks against the table before taking a first mouthful with the menma. It doesn’t take long for them to notice Sarada staring at their bowl from their left. Obito chooses to ignore her for a moment, in favor of stuffing their face with textures they’ve come to adore.

When they return the eye contact, there’s a hint of red to Sarada’s face, like embarrassed. Obito gestures to their ramen with ther chopstick. “You wanna try?”

She nods.

“It’s spicy,” they say, shoving a shrimp to their mouth. “I don’t want you to die, your moms and Sasuke would kill me ten times over. I can’t buy a replacement you in inconvenience stores, you know.”

She takes it as another challenge, it seems, hands on her hips and determination in her eyes. “I can handle spicy,” she insists.

Obito can’t help but to wonder how this will end. They know how this will probably end, and it’s mischief that pushes them to push their ramen bowl closer to Sarada with a shrug. 

“Suit yourself.”

She takes a spoonful of the broth, and with her face red, almost immediately starts coughing with a hand of her throat. As concerned as Obito is, watching tears well in her eyes, they can’t help the laughter that they fail to hold in their throat.

“Ayame-san,” they call through the laughter, body shaking with the force of it, trying to muffle the noise they’re making somewhat with a gloved hand. Sarada whines, and she looks like she was about to _cry_. “Milk, please!”

  
  


Sunday is boring, because Sarada once again insists that Obito has to teach her iryo-ninjutsu and other medical stuff from the thick books that are no doubt Sakura’s. Sure, Obito had been a surgeon skillful enough to conduct eye surgeries, but they’re not a good _teacher_. Unlike her mother, Sarada doesn’t seem to be good at this. But then again, she’s seven, and this is far from something she should already start digging.

That doesn’t stop her, though.

Obito is so restless and understimulated and _bored_ that the impulse to rip off their own arm is so strong they’re half-afraid they might as well go ahead and do it right then. The both of them have been doing this for a little over three hours. Obito is so _jittery_. Across them sits Sarada, bouncing her body unhappily as she stares at the books, no doubt not even registering half of what was written on the page.

“Sarada, come on,” they beg, trying their best not to scream or pluck out any of their limbs. “Let’s take a break.”

“I can’t stop now,” she insists, and Obito wants to cry. They make a whining sound like an injured kitten. “I’m practicing self discipline.”

“Have you been hanging around with Gai?” They murmur dejectedly, feeling their voice cracking. They run their hands up their face, fingers fisting around the locks of their bangs. “I feel like I could spontaneously combust at any second.”

“But you’re smart. Sasuke-san told me you helped him with his eye surgery.” Obito makes another pitiful noise of protest as they hide their face in their hands. They’re certain Sasuke _didn’t_ give her the full story, and they can’t exactly give a child as young as Sarada the context behind that. “Which means you can help me with this,” she says, an optimistic cheer in her voice.

“Sarada,” Obito says tiredly, eye meeting Sarada’s with their face between their hands. “You’re seven, you should learn about first-aid or CPR and not… brain surgery.”

“But Mom has all these books for a reason.”

“Sarada.” Their tone is more stern, this time, so is their look. “Look at me. What have you learned in the past three hours? What can you tell me about the brain?”

“The brain is an organ at the center of the nervous system in all anim--all vertebrate animals and most invertebrate. There are about 14-16 billions nerves in a human brain and… even more neurons in the cerebellum. The neurons communicate with… um. The neurons have extensive networks of dendrites which receive synaptic connections, and—”

“Stop. Stop.” Their voice is quiet as they lift a hand, a gesture matching their words. “That’s enough.”

She does, waiting patiently as Obito takes a deep breath, filling their lung. “The brain is one of the vital organs you must protect at all cost during battle. A little damage to it and you’ll either die or be a fucking vegetable.”

Sarada blinks, mouth slightly open in surprise-confusion.

“Sarada, these things aren’t just about book definition,” they start, after another deep breath. “It takes years not only of reading, but practice too. You can’t just read all these books all day and never had practice or the other way around and _hope_ to be a doctor, especially not a field medic. You’ll fuck up. And when a doctor fucks up, it’s bad. People die. Other people react, mourn, their life could be ruined over it.”

Obito hears their own words as soon as they leave their mouth, and realize too late that that certainly was a terrible thing to say to a toddler. They watch her face fall, shoulders slumping as she stares to her lap. 

“I just wanna be like Mom,” she says, voice half a whisper, a hand pushing her hair back, scratching the back of her ear absently. “People always told me how much I look like her, and how I will grow up to be an awesome doctor like her, and I don’t want to disappoint them. I don’t want to disappoint Mom.”

Obito watches the way she averts her gaze, and tries to look at anywhere but their eye, watching them from the corner of her eyes. They blink, gazing to the books.

Ah. They see how it is now.

“Goddamnit,” they murmur to their fist. Now they’ve fucked up. “Sarada, I—Sarada, look at me.”

They extend their flesh hand carefully, cupping the side of her face to gently lift her gaze up to them, mindful of their own touch. Her dark eyes look just so heartbroken. 

“It’s not like I don’t believe you can learn this,” they start softly, making sure Sarada knows they mean it with all they have left in them. “There is time and place for this, but right now is just not it. Think of it like a sport, yeah? You warm up first, because if you just run a marathon right after you wake up you’ll fuck up your ankles and heart. Or like stairs. You can’t just jump and think you’ll reach the second floor like that, you can twist your ankle and even break a few other bones. You have to take one step at a time. This is the same.”

They let go of Sarada’s face, that same hand pats her gently on the back, rubbing comforting circles.

“Besides, fuck those people. You don’t have to listen to them. You don’t need to be your mother or your other mother to be great. Your life’s yours. Just be yourself, do your thing, and don’t listen to anyone.” Pause, and they blink. “Except your moms. Probably. They look like they know what they’re doing. But besides that… you know, do your thing.”

Sarada’s quiet chuckle is enough to pull up their lips to a faint smile. She wiped her tears that have only started to well. 

“Thank you, Ankle.” Obito just barely manages to bite down their lip to not laugh. That was— _unexpected_. Still, it feels a bit... nice. “What- what do you want to be?”

Their shoulders slump with a sigh, hand pulling away from Sarada’s face. For a moment, they consider deflecting the question with another question. 

They didn’t.

“I wanted to become Hokage. I wanted to create a world where kids like you don’t have to fight wars, but that’s already the kind of world we’re living in now.”

Her eyes widen, glimmers of amazement behind them, seemingly to fill in the blanks of things left unsaid. “So you’ve achieved it? You changed the world?”

Obito thinks about the way they declared the fourth war, the way that had created the Shinobi Alliance and how all five nations fighting against him had, in a way, led to the peaceful era the both of them live in currently. 

They blink innocently. “If we’re getting technical, yes.”

“That’s amazing.” She beams, and they certainly hope she doesn’t register what they just said beyond ‘yes’. “I want to be Hokage, too!” She says, then, with all the determination a seven years old could muster. Obito isn’t sure if that’s an entirely good thing. “I will change the world to be an even better place!”

“And what kind of world will that be?”

Sarada pauses to think, humming thoughtfully. “Naruto-san told me the village doesn’t like Uchiha much. People are always mean to Sasuke-san and sometimes kids at school bother me for looking like him. Grown-ups told me I should stay away from Sasuke-san and you too,” she gives her answer, a bitter frown on her face. 

“They said it was for the best that they were almost all gone. I don’t believe it. I want to prove to people that the Uchihas are not all bad. I like you and Sasuke-san. He teaches me cool things and he doesn’t talk a lot but he’s fun to hang out with.”

Cleansing the Uchiha name, huh. Obito leans back on their arm a bit as they listen.

“Why aren’t you Hokage yet, Obito-san? You created peace. Is it because you’re an Uchiha?”

“Eh. I‘m already Naruto’s assistant, so.” They shrug. 

They're not, not officially. They just come to Naruto's office all the time to terrorize him and smack around the questionable decisions he was about to make—there are still so many things that need to change, even in this peace. ‘Terrorizing Naruto about how he has no idea what he’s doing’ should be the job description, anyways. He’s better than being a father than a Hokage. He brings at least one of his kids to work _four days every week_. At least Shikamaru is grateful for _their_ help. 

“I guess it’s good enough for me, especially now that the world is at peace.”

Sarada touches her chin, nodding, thinking. “So you plan to work alongside him until he finally retires and _then_ you can become Hokage.” She doesn’t even look at them as she speaks her thoughts out loud. “One step at a time, right, Obito-san? You’ll work as Naruto’s assistant until you become Hokage and I will study and train hard at school to be the Hokage after you.”

Obito’s smile turns equal parts awkward and resigned. She didn’t give them half a chance to stop her as she jumped to her own conclusions.

“Promise?” Sarada offers her pinky, smiling so brightly.

Obito thinks they wouldn’t survive if they break another promise like that, as silly as this might seem.

“Hey,” they say instead, slinging an arm around her and pulling her close. Their smile is bright, not to mimic, but to distract her. “Who wants to go to Kiri?”

Sure enough, that’s enough to avert her attention. “Now?”

They hum. “I don’t know, you haven’t answered my question.”

She stands up, legs bouncing as she looks down to them with eyes shining. “I want to go to Kiri.”

“Who wants to go to Kiri? What’s her name?”

“Sarada Haruno!” She exclaims.

“Hell yes!” They stand up, matching her energy, only to get down on their knees again to pick up the scattered books. “Help me clean this up first, you damn brat. Quick, quick, get moving!”

“Yes, captain!”

  
  


Sakura wonders if this was a mistake. She looks at the piece of paper on the front of her door like it was a curse seal, eyebrows creasing and eyes squinting as she reads and reads the little note again.

_me and ankle obito are in kakashi-san's place!!!! sorry mom. sorry mama. i know you told me not to go out past 8 but it's too important ^^"_

_—sarada 🌸_

...Ankle? Sakura is fittingly confused, at first, thinking it might be just a misspelling. She snorts when the dots connect in her head.

_it's her idea. don't break any of my bones. arranging a date for you and ino as i wrote this. i’ll pay._

_—obito_

Unless something really bad happened, she really didn't plan to do anything to them. She raises her brows in delighted amusement anyways. The weekend has been _tiring_ , and she just had to come home alone because Ino was suddenly called to work in the middle of the way, so a free date is a free date. She'll have to thank Obito later, really.

She does wonder what made Sarada thinks it's so important, though. Did Kakashi and Obito get into another one of their playfights and Sarada had misinterpreted it as an actual fight? Sakura finds the thought amusing.

"Sensei," she calls loudly as she knocks the front of Kakashi and Gai's apartment. Not waiting for either to open the door for her, but rather to alert them that she's coming in. "It's me! I'm looking for—"

The door creaks open, revealing the sight of Kakashi's comfortable couch of Gai's choice. Obito lies with a small body on top of them, their left arm slung over her hips.

"...Obito."

And their right arm is missing, bandaged.

Sakura isn't concerned about the missing arm itself, knowing that it's simply about time until another one grows and Obito can use it like nothing happened.

"What," she says, very gracefully, "In the _goddamn_."

She's concerned about the _how_ , and if Sarada had been there when it happened. Because she had entrusted _her only daughter_ to Obito and Obito was _hurt_ and that means Sarada could be, too.

Perhaps this was a mistake.

Sakura is miraculously calm as she makes a beeline towards the couch, carefully checking Sarada's small body under Obito's arm to check for any visible damage. None. Nothing visible, and she hopes there's nothing else that she is still yet to discover.

A groggy grunt turns her head to the source of the noise. Obito squeezes their eye, lid fluttering open tiredly. She can sense their nervousness as eye contact was made. "...Hey, Sakura."

"Obito," she returns the greeting, equal parts biting and worried. Her skillful hands untie the ribbon around the stump of their arm, letting the bandages unravel. They would only hinder Obito's regeneration. "Mind explaining what happened in the two days I was gone?"

Obito stares at the pile of bandages mournfully. "That was from Sarada," they sigh, "She wanted to help."

"Help with…?"

"Uh," they stammer, and whatever it is they're going to say, the offer for a fully-funded date with Ino suddenly makes sense. It's meant to be a peace offering, isn't it. Make things even. "The bleeding…? I don't really— _bleed_ , there, but Sarada wouldn't listen."

"Obito," she says again, stern, her hand squeezes the hand Obito uses to hold her daughter. "What happened? As long as you pay for the date you were arranging, I promise you, I won't be mad."

It's partially a joke, and it does get a snort out of Obito, relaxing them by a significant amount against the couch. The way the tone she uses is the same one she had used to anxious children really helps Obito get somewhat pissed. And when they're irritated, well, Sakura knows they'd be more loose-tongued.

"What the hell, there goes my apartment. The T&I head always picks the fanciest restaurant to go. She's trying to _kill_ me." They shake their head, as if in distress. There's a deep inhale, then: "I took Sarada to Kiri."

"So you went out of Konoha's border," she continues for them, "and got attacked."

"It was more than that." Obito pouts, like trying to convince her that their decision wasn't all that bad. "Sarada and I spent some nice time in there, y'know. She had a great time. The souvenirs are in her room. I know for certain I've earned the 'cool relative' title in her book."

"Cool _ankle_ ," she teases, and their cheeks turn red.

"Don't call me that," they hiss-whisper, eye glaring like an angry kitten. "Sarada-only honorifics."

Sakura snorts.

"Ughh. Anyways." They're still a bit red, and a flustered Obito is always so endlessly amusing to Sakura. " _Someone_ couldn't read the room and attacked me. _Excuse me, sir, I have a little girl with me!_ " The last sentence was spoken like Obito was talking to their assaulter.

Sarada wiggles under Obito's arm. They shush her gently as their hand makes circles on her back. They don’t return the eye contact back to Sakura, but they do continue, albeit carefully quieter.

"Sarada was okay, but motherfucker took my arm. I teleported us home and she started crying and wouldn't stop until she's sure she's patched me up. Then told me to stay in Kakashi's place because she said when she's sick she likes to be around the people she likes like her moms, and Kakashi is the only person she knows who really likes me."

Sakura's gaze switches between Obito's eye and Sarada's relaxed, calm expression against their chest. She reaches to gently push the dark mess of Sarada's hair behind her ear, careful not to wake up the kid.

"Kakashi's on _another_ honeymoon with Gai this weekend, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind me breaking to his house for shelter." They shrug innocently. "Or to raid his fridge."

"So she's okay?"

"Physically she's unharmed." Sakura doesn't miss the shift in their tone—quieter, breath just the slightest bit shakier. "She might be a little shaken, but, it's nothing too bad, hopefully."

She doesn't miss the way their teeth bear down on the scar of their lip. They sigh. "I think we agree that the bottom line is that you should hire a better babysitter."

"Seems so," she replies, but her tone is light. There's a smile touching her lips when she notices Sarada's nails, newly painted a vivid purple.

Her daughter is safe and sound, though a little shaken. She will be pissed off about that for a while, sure, but if Sarada's nails are anything to go by, then she guesses at least she spent some nice time with Obito.

Bare minimum, she thinks. It will be a long time until she can entrust Sarada to them again, but at least they tried. 

Maybe Sakura is too tired to be properly angry.

"You're a wild card." All bark and no bite, still, if flicking Obito's forehead with her finger doesn't count as a bite. They squeak and flinch at the assault, pouting with a deep crease between their brows. "Obito-san."

"Ah." The sincerity that comes with their name seems to catch them off guard, and Sakura suppresses an amused laugh. She watches the way they break eye contact, looking down to Sarada instead, putting their chin on her crown with that same flustered pout. "Shut up."

"I'll make tea." She stands up,, back straightening as she intertwines her fingers against eachother, emitting several _pop_ noises as she cracks her digits and back. "Lots of cinnamon per usual?"

"Yeah. Just fuck me up." 

Their eye closes tiredly, and Sarada shifts under their arm when they take a deep breath, mumbling something that sounds vaguely like Obito’s name. They hold her closer, a gentle grip on her arm, so small under their hand. "Thank you, Sakura."

It's more than for the tea, she notices. She doesn't look at them as she turns on her heel to the direction of the kitchen. "It's nothing."


End file.
